


I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind

by hopingforlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Harry, Bottom Harry Styles, Depressed Louis, Fluff and Angst, Harry Styles Thinks Louis Tomlinson is Pretty, Hurt Harry Styles, Hurt Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Louis Tomlinson Needs a Hug, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sad Louis Tomlinson, Sad with a Happy Ending, Top Louis Tomlinson, extremely sad, harry fucked up, i promise louis will be okay, i still haven't learned how to tag, louis has panic attacks, louis is so tired of having to be strong, louis misses his mom, louis puts himself down a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-05 20:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforlarry/pseuds/hopingforlarry
Summary: When he looked at the bed, Harry was laying there on his stomach. His fringe falling over his face. One hand under the pillow and the other curled to his chest, under him. That’s when Louis realised that, maybe, he loved him. After that, he smoked three more cigarettes, thinking “fuck, fuck, fuck” over and over again. And that’s when he decided he needed to move. He needed to stay away from Harry.orIt wasn’t like fan fictions or movies. Louis and Harry didn’t fall in love during The X Factor. Louis and Harry didn’t need to hide anything from the camera because, really, there wasn’t anything to hide. Louis and Harry never fell in love. Or at least Harry never did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii, everyone!
> 
> My name is Fern and I'm on twitter as @larrydelicate. I absolutely love writing and I mostly write sad and angst stuff but they usually have a happy ending, which is what I plan for this! I hope you guys enjoy it and give me a feedback afterwards so I can feel motivated to write and post more.
> 
> Thank you for your time, it really means a lot to me!
> 
> Also, wanna dedicate this for Isa (@youkilllmymind) who always lifts me up and puts smiles on my face and warms my constantly broken heart.
> 
> x

It wasn’t like fan fictions or movies. Louis and Harry didn’t fall in love during The X Factor. Louis and Harry didn’t need to hide anything from the camera because, really, there wasn’t anything to hide. 

Louis and Harry never fell in love. 

When the band broke up, eventually they followed their own paths. Also, eventually the phone calls turned into messages, which later turned into nothing. 

In the beginning, Louis genuinely thought they would become the best of friends, but the only person he ever called his best friend broke him and simply left them behind. He still doesn’t understand Zayn’s side, but well, that isn’t the matter now.

The first time Louis and Harry hugged (the famous scene of Louis jumping into Harry’s arms), they didn’t feel a sparkle. The first time they kissed, they didn’t feel the sparkle. There was no sparkle. 

For a long time, Louis wondered if he was blinded to Harry’s feelings. If Harry was in love with him. That was until one night back in 2014, when Louis was staying over at his house. He was so drunk but he still remembers the whole conversation. He still remembers the feeling of Harry’s lips pressed to his after he said “we should try it, see if there really is something else”. He remembers the feeling of his racing heart, the coldness in his stomach. But there was no sparkle. 

At least not from Harry’s side. 

The next morning when they woke up in the same bed, Harry’s bed, he was still asleep when he heard a husky laugh coming from his side. “We really did this,” Harry said with a smile on his face, dimples showing and all. “Yeah.” Louis had said, gulping. He still didn’t feel the sparkle, no. Instead, he felt a lump in his throat when Harry winked at him and said “I told you there wasn’t anything”. 

That day, Louis knew he fucked up. 

But, well, summing up, there was no sparkle. 

Sometimes, Louis would feel his heart race again whenever Harry got close and planted a kiss on his cheek. He’d joke with the boys about them, say that Louis had treated him like a gentleman and that he had no idea how he wasn’t dating anyone. 

Quietly, Louis would think about that night. The way Harry moaned his name and said he loved him when he came. Licking his lips, he would swallow the persistent lump in his throat and laugh along with the boys. 

Differently from what everyone thought, Louis really did think of himself as a good pretender. After all, no one noticed when the color drained from his face the first time Harry presented Tom to the band. “My boyfriend,” he said. Louis smiled, shaking his hand, “nice to meet you, mate”. 

And it really was nice to meet him. Tom was a nice guy, with his nice broad shoulders and legs longer than Harry’s. He was a nice guy when he would bring Harry flowers at the studio when they were woking in some new album. He was nice when he kissed Harry’s forehead and said “I love you” in his ear. He was nice when Harry stopped texting Louis asking to hanging out because he was to busy on a trip with Tom. 

Tom was nice. Louis recognised that. 

He just wish the lump in his throat would have gone away already. 

// 

Differently from what people thought, Harry wasn’t some womaniser and cold hearted bad boy that would fuck you and never call you back. No. Louis just wasn’t one of those people he called back. 

Differently from what people think, Harry does have a huge heart and feelings. He did cry when Tom told him he didn’t think he could do it anymore. “He said he doesn’t love me anymore, Louis. How can you just wake up one day and not love someone anymore?” Harry asked when Louis took him in and made him tea. They were sitting in Louis’ couch. The long haired man let the tears fall down his face, hiccupping. 

And honestly. Honestly. Louis didn’t know what to answer. 

It was late 2017. 

That night, Harry kissed him and begged “please, Lou, I need to forget”. Louis remembers fucking him, remembers Harry crying while he did it. Louis stopped about three times, worried about him and Harry only begged, “harder”. And Louis did. 

Louis held him tight and fucked him hard enough he had to hold back a couple of times not to finish inside him. And Harry thanked him about a thousand times until he fell asleep. 

Still, no sparkle. Just chills. 

But then, Louis knew he fucked up again. 

That night, Louis smoked 5 cigarettes in a row. Felt the burn in his lungs as he remembered his mother saying “this isn’t healthy, baby”. He felt like fainting and, before he realised, there were tears streaming down his face. “I miss you, mom.” He thought to himself. 

When he looked at the bed, Harry was laying there on his stomach. His fringe falling over his face. One hand under the pillow and the other curled to his chest, under him.  
That’s when Louis realised that, maybe, he loved him. 

After that, he smoked three more cigarettes, thinking “fuck, fuck, fuck” over and over again. And that’s when he decided he needed to move. He needed to stay away from Harry. 

// 

Of course, Louis didn’t leave right away. After all, Harry still wasn’t okay and he would never leave him behind without at least knowing he had someone to be there for him. 

The very next morning when Harry woke up, Louis was on the balcony, smoking another cigarette. “Lou.” He called and Louis turned to face him. “Thank you.” Harry told him. 

For a second, a crazy thought came to his head and he really considered spilling all his feelings on the table. He really did consider. However, his thoughts faded away as soon as he saw Harry’s wet cheeks. “I love him, Louis, I never loved someone as much as I love him.” 

It wasn’t like the movies. Louis’ heart didn’t break. Well, honestly that would be scientifically impossible. Instead, he felt sadness. He felt like all the pain he ever felt in his life came crashing down on him in that moment. 

Louis was numb.

That was the first time Louis numbed himself.

“I know, Haz.” He said. Leaning to wipe the man’s tears away, ignoring his heart and headache. 

That morning, Louis cuddled Harry just liked he asked. He listened to every single word Harry said about Tom. Listened to him say every single thing about their relationship, what he loved about him, what he hated about him. Listened to his wet laugh when he said “he always brought me roses, Lou, no one ever took care of me like he did”. 

Louis couldn’t help but think. I always do. 

And God, did it hurt. It was like every single pain Louis ever felt in his life was stabbing him in the heart, like the weight of the world was falling over his shoulders. He felt so numb. In the back of his mind, Louis would tell himself “this is the last time”. And, also, differently from movies and fanfics, it really was the last time. 

// 

Louis left everything behind when he bought a house in a small house in Hannover, a little town in Germany. He left his clothes, his portraits (except for one with a picture of his mother) and, most importantly, his heart. 

The first night he spent in the house was hard. He felt like he hadn’t cried that much ever. Everything came crashing down as he drank the second bottle of wine he bought on the small market on the way home. God, home. What even is that, honestly? 

Before he left, he texted everyone saying he needed a break, he needed to spend some time by himself, away from phones, computers or anything that would establish any connection with the world. “I love you, Lou.” Lottie said, she sounded sad, “please, call me from time to time”. His sisters all hugged him as he said goodbye with a promise of “I’ll be fine”. 

He didn’t believe that. But he knew they already knew. 

Louis texted Niall and Liam as soon as he sat down on his couch in his new house. “Gonna move to Germany”. No one understood where the fuck that came from and Niall even asked if things were fine. As he poured himself a glass of red wine, he sighed and texted “all good”. 

Also differently from all fanfics, no one really did have the time to be there for Louis. In real life, a singer’s life is really busy. 

Harry’s was the last message he sent. “Gonna be in Germany for a while. Hope you’re feeling better.” He typed. For a moment, he questioned himself if he really should send it. Louis deleted it and wrote “hope you’re okay” and sent it. 

Louis didn’t expect a reply, but he wasn’t really surprised when his phone lighted up with a message. “I’m so much better, Lou. Tom called me and we talked. We’re all good. You’re the best!!!!” it read. 

“You’re fine.” Louis thought to himself. But deep inside, he couldn’t stop but wonder if he would ever find love like everyone around him seems to find. 

// 

The firsts nights were the hardest ones. He was used to a quiet house, but he wasn’t used to rooms with plain beige walls, no portraits or paints colouring the place. He felt more lonely than he had ever felt in his life and that was the worst thing to think of. 

Most days he would fall asleep with his mother’s portrait wrapped inside his chest. He would wake up in the middle of the night, nightmares haunting him. He would feel the couch wet in his sweat (and tears) and the portrait on the ground. Louis would quickly reach for the photo and hold it tight, whispering “I’m sorry” about a thousand times before he fell asleep again. 

For a few nights, Louis would think about Harry. He would wonder if maybe Harry didn’t love him as a friend half as much as Louis loves him. After all, Louis had always been there for him. Cheering him up, fucking him from time to time. He wondered if what he was feeling was stupid, if the problem was him and not Harry. 

In the end, he would always realize that the problem wasn’t that Harry didn’t love him enough. It was that he just loved Harry way too much. 

By the end of the night (and beginning of sun rise) he would end up with drunken scribbles of stupid lyrics about broken hearts and unrequited love on a notebook Harry gave him on his last birthday. All the pages with stains from where his tears would fall. 

He would wake up with throbbing head and an empty heart. 

Don’t understand him wrong, please. Louis wasn’t sad because of his unrequited love for Harry Styles. At least, not only that. The thing is: of the uncountable events that happened in his life in the last years, his love for Harry was the only thing that still made him feel alive. The rest of them all ripped a part of his heart and made him feel like he couldn’t go on. 

But, honestly, as the days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into years, Louis learned that a good bottle of wine (or two) are enough to numb you and, by the time he figured that out, he settled for it. 

So, basically, that was Louis’ routine. Wake up at 4pm, take a shower, drink and smoke until sun rise and then sleep.

And that went for about a year and a few months. 

Then Louis received the call in the middle of March 2019. 

// 

It hurt. It all hurt. Not even all the numbing he learned to do in the time he spent away were enough to numb the pain he was feeling. 

His phone rang about twenty times but he wouldn’t pick up any of the calls. One night, when his phone wouldn’t stop beeping with messages, Louis threw his phone on the wall and broke into pieces. And, for a second, Louis wondered if his heart was that shattered phone he would still hurt as much as he was hurting. 

Louis spent about a two months with his sisters. Two more months being the strongest person he could be because, after all, he is the big brother and everyone expects him to stand up and take it all with a head held high. 

About a month after the passing of his sister, he was in the rooftop of his house, crying as hard as he could, his head throbbing after the eight beers he had. Lottie found him there and held him tight. “Lou, I’m sorry” she whispered as Louis hiccupped into her chest. 

Still, Louis didn’t open his mouth to spill any of his feelings and Lottie (God, he was so thankful for Lottie) didn’t force him to say anything. 

After that night, Louis swallowed all the tears and pain and took care of his sisters. Until, one day, after two months, someone knocked on the door at 1am. 

Louis was the only one awake. He took a long sip of his sixth beer and pressed his thumb and index to his forehead, feeling his head was like a time bomb ticking and ready to explode. When he opened the door, he felt the same coldness in his stomach he felt almost two years ago when he last saw Harry. 

Still, no sparkle. 

Harry. 

“Louis.” The husky, weirdly familiar voice called him. He sounded so... Broken. 

Louis stood there in a trance, until he simply slammed the door on the man’s face and locked. He placed the beer on the closest surface he could find. And, before he knew, he was sliding down the front door and crying as hard as he could. 

And that was Louis’ first panic attack. 

Louis was so numb and focused in his own head, which was spinning faster than ever, that he didn’t even hear the knocks growing louder and more persistent. Lottie found him there, on the ground. She kneed in front of him and whispered “breathe” like a mantra. 

Breathe? Louis couldn’t just breathe. 

Lottie pulled Louis away from the door and helped him stand up. She opened the door only a little and said “wait” before closing it again. She took her brother to the living room couch and stayed with him until he calmed down a little. After that, she walked to the door again. 

“What just happened? Is he okay?” Louis could hear the worry Harry’s voice.

“I think he just had a panic attack.” Lottie said. “It’s all too much. No one expects him to be the strongest one, but he seems to think he has to be.” 

“Let me come in please.” The voice said. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Harry.” Louis heard his sister say, sighing heavily. “I can take care of him.” 

“Please.” Harry begged and he sounded... Sad? 

“You should go home. He needs to rest. Come back another day, yeah?” Lottie suggested. 

After that, Louis only remembers Harry being a little more persistent before he fell asleep. 

The next day, when he woke up, he talked to his sisters. “I can’t stay.” He said. Lottie insisted for him to stay, but his mind was settled. 

//

When Louis arrived in Hannover again, it all came crashing down again. That night, Louis drank three bottles of white wine and, on the next day, woke up with his notebook on the ground, last night’s last glass of wine spilled over it. 

The only thing he could read on the page that the notebook was opened on was “why did you leave me, why did you care, why did you use me, it wasn’t fair”. 

And for the first time since the first day he stepped into his house, he didn’t eat or take a shower.


	2. chapter ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I always thought I was the problem, Harry.” Louis tells him, clenching his jaw. “But it turns out you were never my friend. I was always your friend.” He points at Harry. “It was a one way only friendship. And, God. Harry, that worked for so long- I handled it for so long. I just- I’m so tired of having the weight of everyone’s problems on my shoulders and not having anyone to share mine with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (twitter acc: @larrydelicate)
> 
> So... Chapter 2! 
> 
> I'm really happy for the feedback on the first chapter! Over 400 hits, 33 kudos and 5 comments! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> I hope you guys really like this, I don't have the next part written but I'm hoping to write it today. Also, wanna let you all know that I go to medschool and have an internship in the Police Hospital so I don't really have a lot of free time, so please don't be upset if I go MIA.
> 
> Take care,  
Fern.

\- Present -

Louis is drunk. His head is spinning, but he ignores his needs to spill his guts all over the floor. His notebook, Harry’s notebook, is opened on a blank page. He stares at it with a pencil in his hand. So many rhymes run inside his mind and he feels like there’s so much to write, but he just can’t.

The tears would be wetting his face by now, normally, but Louis likes to think that, by now, he has run out of tears to spill. 

When, honestly, he's just learned to keep himself numb all the time.

“Stupid Louis, stupid Louis.” He writes on the papers.

“You can’t even write.” Louis spits at himself. “Useless. You’re useless.” 

He throws the notebook on the table and it hits his bottle of beer. The drink spills all over the pages. His eyes widens and he immediately moves to take the book. He rubs the wetness away but realises that it’s no use. The pages are all blurred. 

Louis falls to the ground and holds the notebook to his chest. 

It all hurts. Why do you keep fucking everything? He asks himself. 

That moment, something that hasn’t happened ever (besides from the first nights when his neighbour from the house beside his came over to offer "welcome to the neighbourhood" cookies and he understood nothing she said because german) happens. Someone knocks on the door. 

For a moment, Louis thinks to himself “okay, you’ve had too much”. Knowing that this is probably his own mind playing tricks on him. That is until he hears three knocks again. 

Standing up, Louis squeezes his eyes shut, reaching for the closest surface to keep him steady. He feels so dizzy he could fall asleep right there and then. 

When he finally reaches the door, he runs his fingers through his hair, aiming for a less messy hair. He turns the knob and his heart stops. 

There standing in front of him is the man he hasn’t seen in months. 

Harry is standing with a suitcase in his hand. He looks worried, eyebrows furrowed and pained expression.

For a moment, Louis feels like he might faint. 

“What are you doing here?” The shorter man whispers, hearing his own voice betray him. 

“Louis.” Harry finally says. And Louis... Falls. 

// 

When he wakes up, his head is still throbbing (it never really stops). He’s laying down in his room and the lights are off. The moonlight shines through the window and he wonders what time it is, what happened, how long he slept for. 

Slowly, Louis’ memories begin to flow back into his mind and he recalls seeing Harry before he passed out. Shaking his head, he presses his fingers to his temple. “God.” He mumbles under his breath. He knows he should stop drinking that much. 

But he doesn’t really care anymore. 

He’s taken out of his trance when he listens to a loud thump coming from outside the room, more precisely downstairs. Immediately, the colour drains from his face. He knows he shouldn’t wish for the noise to be anything other than Harry. Even a thief would be better than facing Harry. 

God. Louis isn’t ready to talk to him. 

Still, biting his bottom lip so hard he feels the metallic taste of blood, he stands up from his bed. He can’t help but squeeze his eyes at the light that is hitting him. Even the gentle moonlight is enough to make him want to close all the windows and curtains and go back to bed. 

He feels like maybe he belongs in the dark. 

When he reaches the stairs, he feels a little dizzy and has to hold onto de walls so his knees won’t give out. He still hears some noises coming from the kitchen. When he approaches the room in slow, careful steps, he takes a deep breath before he finally goes in. 

His presence wasn’t noticed, but Harry’s was. He watched as he put some things inside the refrigerator, bread on the little basket on table. Louis didn’t realise he was staring until he felt the familiar wetness on his cheeks. When he sniffled, Harry finally turned around to face him.

He looks worried. “Lou.” He said. 

Quietly, Louis leaned onto the wall by the entrance of the kitchen. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe Harry was standing there in front of him. When Louis last saw him, he thought if he came to Germany, he wouldn’t have to face him again. But, unfortunately, he was so wrong. 

Once again, he felt dizzy. His back slid down the wall and he finally hit the ground. Louis brought his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face between them. He couldn’t seem to find any words to say. And, honestly, everything hurt so much that he didn’t even think he needed words to express what he was feeling. 

He wanted to scream at Harry, say that he wasn’t invited. He isn’t welcome there. 

Before he knew, Harry was kneeing down in front of him and calling his name. His nickname. Something that only people who cared had the right to say. Therefore, Harry had no right of it. 

Louis was full on sobbing, his breathing turning heavier and heavier as the seconds went by. And, once again, after a week and a half, Louis was having another panic attack. He couldn’t find the air to breathe, or maybe the air wasn’t reaching his lungs. For a moment, if felt like he would die. 

“Louis, breathe.” Harry called him, reaching for Louis’ hand, which was resting on his knee. “Louis, breathe with me. Come on.” 

Slowly, Louis raised his head, his eyes meeting Harry’s. 

God. Everything hurts. 

Ignoring everything he was feeling, he focused on Harry’s words. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. “Good.” Harry told him, his thumb rubbing on Louis’ hand. “Good, Lou.” 

After a while, Louis finally felt the oxygen reach his lungs once again and breathed less heavier. They both stay quiet for what seems like minutes, but Harry is still there in front of him, his thumb still rubbing circles on the back of Louis’ hand. 

Louis still stares into Harry’s eyes as the time passes, tears falling persistently over his cheeks. He’s so tired. 

“What are you doing here?” Louis is the one who breaks the silence. His voice fails him, again. 

The features of Harry’s face soften. “I’m here for you.” Is all he says. 

For a moment, Louis wants to push him away and scream at his face. But why are you here, you were never here, why are you here now? Is all he can think. The familiar emptiness in his heart makes him shiver. He will never understand how one can be so empty and still feel something. 

His stomach gets colder within every second.

“Lou, why didn’t you tell me you were struggling this much?” Harry interrupts his thoughts. 

And he hates him. God. Louis hates him so much he could scream it all on his face. I hate you, you never took care of me, I hate you. He wants to say so many things that will hurt Harry, make him feel at least half of the pain he himself is feeling. Has been feeling for years in a row now.

When Louis doesn’t answer for a few more minutes, Harry’s hand pulls away from his. For a second, he hates himself for missing his hand, for missing his touch. The taller man shifts until his sitting right beside Louis. He’s facing forward, Louis can see it on the corner of his eyes. 

Harry looks sad. He looks hopeless. 

“Harry.” Louis whispers, head slowly turning to the side, facing the other man. “Why are you here? How do you even know where I live.” 

Sighing, the younger man gulps. He still doesn’t look at Louis. “Asked Lottie. She told me right away.” Before Louis can say anything else, he continues. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to come.” He tells him. “Lou, I didn’t know it was this bad.” 

At that, Louis couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. How could Harry not know? He saw him full on crying the last time he met him. He saw him having his first panic attack. How could he not know how much Louis was struggling. I hate you, Louis thought to himself. 

“Lou, I went to your house again the day after we last saw each other.” He tells him. And, okay, Louis didn’t know that. “You had gone already. I thought that maybe you just needed to be by yourself- I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“Haz.” Louis calls him quietly, his voice breaking. This moment, Harry turns to face him. God, he looks so fucking broken. “Why are you here?” He asks him. 

He took some time to answer. His lips opened and closed a few times before he finally sighed. Louis thought things were only hard on him, but Harry’s life wasn’t a bed of roses, either. 

“I was worried.” He says, his voice sounding huskier than before. He looks into Louis’ eyes then turns his gaze away. 

“Harry.” Louis shakes his head. “I left two years ago and you’re here just now. If you were as worried as you say you are you would’ve come as soon as I left.” 

“But I had-.” Harry opens his mouth to argue, but Louis shushes him. 

“You had Tom.” Louis lets out a humourless laugh. “You know, Harry, since I first met you- hell, since I made my first friend ever in life, when I was just a kid, I always felt like maybe I cared way too much.” He shakes his head. “I’d always, always put people’s needs before mine.” Louis sighs. “Just like I always put your needs first. I always took care of you, Haz.” He shrugs. “I was always there to help you through everything. Your insecurities, your pains... Tom. But you never...” He furrows his eyebrows, feeling the familiar lump inside his throat grow larger. “You never made my needs your priority.” 

“Lou.” Harry tries to interrupt him. 

Louis can see the man’s eyes watering, his face writhing as if he’s in pain. But he decides to ignore him. There is just so much to say and he only wants to let out a small, very small part of it. 

“I always thought I was the problem, Harry.” Louis tells him, clenching his jaw. “But it turns out you were never my friend. I was always your friend.” He points at Harry. “It was a one way only friendship. And, God. Harry, that worked for so long- I handled it for so long. I just- I’m so tired of having the weight of everyone’s problems on my shoulders and not having anyone to share mine with.” 

The room was quiet for a while. The only thing you could hear was the wind outside the house. In nights like this, it would rain for hours. And those nights were the ones Louis identified with the most. 

Both of them were speechless. So much too say but not enough courage. 

Once Louis realised none of them would say anything anymore, he stood up and walked out of the room. However, he was stopped with the feeling of another hand wrapping around his wrist and holding him so he wouldn’t go anywhere. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all the broken voice tells Louis. 

Louis shrugs and lets out a bitter laugh, pulling his arm from Harry’s grip. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Harry asks after a second, sounding hesitant. Like he doesn’t want to do it, but he will if it’s what Louis asks of him. 

“I wish I could say I don’t care wether you choose to leave or stay, Haz.” Louis mutters under his breath. “But it would be a lie and I’m so done pretending.” And he walks away. 

// 

Times like this, Louis feels like he doesn’t have an escape. He could turn to alcohol and cigarettes and even skin pinches, but nothing is enough to make him numb. He lays in his bed and under the sheets and wonders if that pain will ever pass, if there is anything he can do to make it better. Always, he falls asleep, a dream of his mother telling “things will be okay, Lou, you’re my strong boy” and he wakes wake up with an even heavier weight on his shoulders. 

All he can think of is: I don’t want to be strong anymore. 

Louis laid in his bed quietly, the ripped notebook wrapped inside his chest. He didn’t know if Harry had left already but he sure as hell wouldn’t risk him seeing all the words and lyrics he wrote about unrequited love and broken hearts. 

It was 7pm when Louis felt the urge to drink again. His body missing the alcohol and his head still throbbing from night before. He stood up from the bed and walked downstairs. What he didn’t expect was to find Harry on the kitchen. 

He was sitting down on one of the chairs with his head laid on the table, arms crossed under him. He looked sound asleep, but he didn’t look as peaceful as Louis remembers he would look in his bed after a long night of sex. Harry looked as if he was in pain. 

Before Louis knew, he was walking towards the man and reaching for his hair. His curls were no longer curls, his hair was too short. In the back of his mind, Louis missed the feeling of gripping onto Harry’s long hair whenever he would fuck him. Shaking away his thoughts, Louis caressed Harry’s cheek with his thumb. 

God. He loves him so much.

“Lou.” A sleepy voice calls his attention and Louis quickly pulls his hand away as if it is boiling water. 

Harry slowly shifts away from the table, running his fingers through his hair to fix it. He looks up at where Louis is standing and tilts his head to the side, not helping the a small smile from forming on his lips and his dimples from showing widely. 

“You didn’t have to stop.” Harry tells, biting his lip. 

Louis gulps, feeling his breathing become heavier. Harry seems to notice the exact moment when Louis’ body threatens to begin another panic attack and he raises his eyebrows. “Don’t go having another panic attack on me, please.” He says, putting his hands together like he’s about to say a prayer. 

At that, Louis’ body seems to relax a little and sighs deeply. He looks down at his own feet. He wishes Harry wouldn’t be able to make his heart race as much as a Ferrari.   
“You didn’t leave.” Louis points out as if it isn’t pretty obvious already. 

“Oh.” Harry blinks a couple of times. “I’m sorry- I.” He stops. “You didn’t tell me to leave.” He stands up from his chair right away and points to the direction of the front door. “I can leave if you want- I didn’t mean to bother you.” He begins to walk past Louis. “God, I’m so stupid.” He mumbles under his breath. 

When he hears it, Louis furrows his eyebrows. Hey, there’s only one space for a sad person, here. He thinks to himself. Turning around, Louis reaches for Harry’s shoulder. He doesn’t address his comment about himself. “You can stay if you want.” Louis tells him. 

And for a moment. God. For a moment Louis feels so unbearably stupid. Do you have to go and be so stupid about him all the time? He wonders to himself. 

Harry is facing him now, eyebrows raised and lips parted in the shape of an o. “Are you sure?” He asks, sounding, once again, hesitant. 

Like he doesn’t want Louis to think twice because he is scared he will change his mind. 

Louis clenches his jaw. “Rules.” Is the last thing he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii, welcome again! I hope you all liked this.. Feedbacks are always welcome and motivating!
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, everyone, I hope you guys liked that.. I know it's full of angst and sadness but I promise it will get better, even if it takes a long time. Also, I would really appreciate a feedback? I already have a second part written, so if you guys like it I can post it tomorrow or even today!
> 
> Take care,  
Fern


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